


seven eight lay them straight

by FrenchTwistResistance



Category: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-31
Updated: 2019-07-31
Packaged: 2020-07-27 15:29:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20048329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrenchTwistResistance/pseuds/FrenchTwistResistance
Summary: There’s a lot happening at the newest orgy.





	seven eight lay them straight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [winethroughwater](https://archiveofourown.org/users/winethroughwater/gifts).
  * Inspired by [If two's company and three's a crowd, what does that make four and five?](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16581065) by [winethroughwater](https://archiveofourown.org/users/winethroughwater/pseuds/winethroughwater). 

Hilda hasn’t given much thought as to whether Zelda as High Priestess might continue the tradition of orgies held at their place of worship.

She especially doesn’t much care with Zelda’s face between her legs.

But as she grows into her role as First Lady, she realizes so much.

Sure, Zelda cherishes her and indulges her, lets her bring her spiders wherever she feels she needs them, lets her grow whatever ridiculous, high-maintenance plants she wants.

But still Zelda is Zelda—a physical entity, requiring certain… stimulations.

Hilda very clearly sees Zelda’s lust. As Zelda preaches, Hilda watches her—watches her controlled, taut body behind the pulpit as those blue-green eyes peruse the congregation and pause very obviously on certain other controlled, taut bodies.

Hilda is less jealous than she is intrigued.

“Lilith herself compels us to love rather than hate. To love rather than judge,” Zelda says in her priestly robes at the pulpit.

Hilda, hands clasped in her lap, watches Zelda deliver the message. Hilda watches Zelda watch her congregation.

xxx

Zelda doesn’t announce it as such.

She doesn’t discuss it with Hilda beforehand.

It’s something that unfolds organically.

And it simply happens. It happens to all of them. A respite, a reprieve, some fun. Lilith’s will.

xxx

Zelda’s spritzing her best perfume, admiring herself in the full-length mirror.

“Going out?” Hilda says.

“Not exactly,” Zelda says. Her eyes peruse Hilda’s body in the doorway. “Fellowshipping. You ought to come, too.”

Hilda takes in Zelda’s clinging silk, the haunting, hunting look on her face. She knows what fellowship means in this context.

“This again, really? I’d thought—”

“What better way to bond us all?” Zelda says, eyebrows arching.

They look at each other. Hilda considers and concedes:

“I suppose there aren’t scriptures to study just yet. And no one knows how to play bridge anymore.” Zelda laughs and approaches Hilda at their bedroom’s threshold. She shuts the door and begins unbuttoning Hilda’s cardigan.

“As much as I like this color on you…”

“You’d rather I looked the part.”

“Hmm yes,” Zelda says, tracing a finger over Hilda’s clavicle.

“You’re sure you want me to come?”

“I want you to attend. And I want you to come.”

xxx

They’re in the foyer of the Church of Lilith.

Hilda peers in at the writhing bodies. She shudders and turns to Zelda:

“Should we have invited Mary Wardwell?”

Zelda pushes her against the door, presses her body to Hilda’s, looks into her eyes, says,

“Like I would invite that kind of competition.”

Hilda’s face scrunches in confusion, and Zelda forces her thigh between Hilda’s. They both groan and then she continues:

“I wouldn’t trust you to not fall in love with her. You can’t help but take in strays. So Wardwell’s on her own. Surely you understand.” Her eyes are narrowed, mean, searching.

“You like me that much?” Hilda says. Zelda’s eyes flash as her hips move, the thigh between Hilda’s bucking.

Zelda releases her, saunters toward the coat check, says noncommittally,

“Time to strip, sister.”

xxx

Hilda hadn’t asked. Zelda had provided without any verbal communication.

And so Hilda sheds her shift and pumps to reveal cerulean lacy lingerie that Zelda had laid out for her.

Zelda, for her part, rids herself of clinging silk to reveal more clinging silk. The same color as her priestly robes—scarlet and black.

xxx

It’s more attention than Hilda had ever wanted in such a context.

But as First Lady, she had anticipated it regardless.

She steps over bodies, sidesteps bodies pressed together in nooks, averts her eyes from eyes looking at her body so close against Zelda’s body.

xxx

Zelda flops onto a plush divan, pulls Hilda on top of her, kisses her with ferocity and urgency.

Hilda kisses back, her tongue plunging into Zelda’s mouth and scraping against teeth, her hips finding a rhythm again Zelda’s. Hilda looks up then, sees too many sets of eyes regarding her intimate movements. Hilda husks against Zelda’s ear:

“What’s your aim here? Do you mean to make love to me? Or do you mean to put on a show?”

“Why not both?” Zelda groans as she cups Hilda’s breast with one hand and grasps her hair with the other. The hand on her breast snakes beneath her brassiere and pinches a nipple. Hilda sighs at that but still manages,

“I’ve never wanted to be a spectacle.”

Zelda laughs.

“And yet you’ve always submitted to being a sight for me,” Zelda says.

“That’s different—”

“Not so different,” Zelda says as she uses her tongue against Hilda’s throat.

xxx

“We’ve participated before,” Prudence says. “May we now again?”

xxx

Hilda rides out her pleasure against Agatha’s mouth as she watches Zelda thoroughly fucked on Dorcas’s fingers. Prudence watches, kisses Dorcas, touches herself.

xxx

“Well. You can’t deny it’s cemented our relationships,” Zelda says, clutching Hilda tightly in her bed.

“I didn’t need any outside influences. But if you did—”

“I didn’t, but they were fun anyway, weren’t they?”

“They were. But I prefer you,” Hilda says.

**Author's Note:**

> Group chat bs.  
In the same universe as “If two’s company and three’s a crowd what does that make four and five?”


End file.
